One death, three takes
by Remus-Chocolade
Summary: What happened to Fred when he died? What's the after-life like? Difficult questions, but here's three possibilities I see.
1. Heaven

**AN: Three different takes on what could have happened to Fred after that bloody wall decided to fall on him. Pick your favorite, I don't own any of the characters, J.K. Rowling does.**

**This will be the humourous (I hope, at least.) Enjoy!**

Fred Weasley was being dragged upwards. Up from the heap of stones that had just hit him, dragged by an invisible force. Towards and through the ceiling. He yelled and cursed, not understanding what what happening, he could still see a tuft of his red hair sticking out from underneath all the rubble and his brothers standing around his body. Higher and higher he went, cursing everything and everyone, his voice (if he still had one and it wasn't just his imagination,) got shriller as he almost started to panic.

"...And the bloody Y-fronts of Merlin haunt you for the eternity!" he finished as he was pulled through a cloud and suddenly stood on it, wearing a white robe.

"Calm down, mate," a slightly familiar voice told him and he looked up to see a black-haired man sitting on the next cloud. It seemed the soft light came from the white substance itself, the sky above them was dark.

"What the hell just happened?" he bellowed and noticed all the people sitting, laying or otherwise occupying the clouds around him. Because that's definitely what it was, clouds.

"You just died," the man said to him and chuckled. Fred took a closer look and noticed it was Sirius Black. Then he was probably right too.

"No, I can't die now! I'm in my prime!" he shouted and clenched his fists in anger.

"That's what they all say," a brown-haired woman answered as she sat down beside Sirius with a bowl of popcorn. "Now move, you're blocking the view." She crossed her legs and gazed down on Earth. Fred mimicked her and was astonished to see the battle going on not that far under them, almost as if they were hanging up in the ceiling of the castle.

"What?" The distance didn't add up to how far he had felt when he was dragged up. Now George was hastily throwing away the rocks that had fallen on his, Fred's, body. He hadn't been far behind them, but had first caught up when Percy, Ron, Hermione and Harry had left. "I have to get back," Fred muttered and dived off the cloud only to hit what felt like a warm jet of air. He tried swimming downwards, but it was no good.

"Lad, that won't work," a new voice said from behind. It resembled something he had heard a long time ago, too long to remember. He tried and discovered he could stand on the air and turned to see who it was.

"Uncle Fabian?" He recognised the bronze-coloured hair and cheerful face from photographs, seeing it was something else. He slowly walked towards the man who was only slightly taller than him and received a hug.

"We've been waiting for one of you to join us soon," Fabian said and snickered, leading his nephew with him, one arm over his shoulder.

"Wa-waiting?" Fred stuttered. No matter how cool and articulate he normally was, suddenly dying had made his mind momentarily blank.

"Yeah, Molly's worries haven't been for nothing. Though she have no idea how nice it is up here," Fabian said and made Fred sit down on a cloud. "First we thought it would be Ron, then Ginny, then Ron again, then Arthur, a year ago Bill and now I just lost my bet." Fred's eyes widened at how cold-hearted his uncle could be.

"Chips?" Gideon offered from beside him. Fred turned, he hadn't noticed his other uncle before he talked.

"What's the matter with you people, sitting up here and taking bets on who's dying and who survives?" Fred's voice got shriller and he would have left if he knew where to go.

"It isn't because we don't care, it's exactly _because _we care," Gideon told him calmly and took a handful chips from the bowl. "We never wanted our sister to lose a son, but when it first happens we might as well get a kick out of it."

"Shh, something's happening," Fabian said, he had laid down and peeked over the edge. Fred did the same, pillowing his head on his crossed arms.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Under them, Molly – their mother and sister – ran towards a black-haired woman while throwing off her cloak.

"Wow!" Gideon uttered as Molly started firing curses at fast intervals. She refused any kind of help offered, barking at the students between hexes and curses.

"Go Molls," Fabian shouted with a laugh. Fred couldn't help but get touched by his mother's rage following his death. Not that he was about to get all mushy and cry.

"You – will – never – touch – our – children – again!" she screamed and hit Bellatrix with a curse straight over the heart.

A general "ohh..." went through the nearby crowd as they watched the witch topple over and fall over, hitting the floor with a small thud.

"And what now? Is she too coming up here?" Fred inquired at once, fury boiling in him at the thought.

"And your mother thought you had brains," Fabian muttered. "If this is Heaven, she is of course going to Hell," he said, smacking Fred gently on the head.

"Yeah, yeah," he just answered, slightly annoyed.

"Maybe they're getting here later," Gideon suggested, meaning his nephew's wits.

"What do you usually do around here, when it's not a deadly battle going on?" Fred asked and sat up on his knees.

"Eat. Tell stories. Joke. Have sex." Fabian sat up too and took some chips.

"Basically Heaven," Fred concluded. Gideon rolled his eyes and prayed those wits were on express delivery.

"You know, Lupin and that foxy lady he came with jumped straight in the sack. They disappeared that way at least," Fabian told him and waved his thumb somewhere behind them.

"So it's beds and such somewhere here?" Fred hadn't seen anything but white clothes with people on.

"Nope. No beds, no bathroom, no kitchen. 'Couse we don't need it, it's just to wish for something and it appears!" To prove his point Fabian held out his hands and a banana materialised. He handed it to Fred.

"Thanks, but I'm not up for fruit now." These people seemed completely untouched by the fact that they were dead.

"Peel it anyway," Fabian encouraged with a grin. Fred did, discovering the banana itself to be of dark chocolate. As this wasn't against his wished he took a big bite and chewed thoughtfully.

"You'll get used to it after a while," Gideon said and leaned back on his arms. Fred frowned a little, not believing it fully.

"Wait, why are you wearing regular clothes and I'm stuck in this sheet?" He had suddenly taken in that his uncles wore shirts and jeans while he was still in the white robe.

"You have to wish for it," Fabian told him slowly, as if he was extraordinary thick. Fred raised his eyebrows a little and concentrated, a moment later he was wearing a comfy blue t-shirt and jeans, his bare toes digging into the soft, cool cloud. Maybe he could get used to this after all.

"I think their done down there," Fabian commented and they turned their attention to Hogwarts again. Many had gathered in the Great Hall where the dead bodies was laid out in rows.

"You big dolt," Fred muttered as he noticed his twin sitting by his corpse, tears trickling down his cheeks. Their mother was a complete mess, sobbing recklessly. Why couldn't they see that he had it perfectly well? Then he realised with a pang that it would be a long time until he would meet any of them again.

"Come, that's nothing to watch," Gideon said softly and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned away despite wanting to yell out to George, tell him he was fine, shake his twin senseless to make him see it.

"That's the crap about dying, seeing all the crying afterwards," Fabian said darkly. "Well, I'm tired," he stated airy and laid down on his back, pounding a piece of the cloud into something resembling a pillow. Fred laid down too, on his side with one arm under his head and realised even Heaven was Hell without George.

"Come lay here," Gideon offered and patted the white between him and his brother. Fred obeyed, crawling on his hands and knees before collapsing on his stomach. Why did this have to happen to him, them?

"Night, then," Fabian said and Fred felt a hand on his shoulder. He grunted as a response and closed his eyes. By some miracle he fell asleep even though his mind was racing around the sudden changes in his life. Like a lack of exactly that.

--

Something was fluttering in front of his face. Fred tried waving it away, soft flesh hit the back of his hand and he opened his eyes.

"What the..." He sat up and grabbed the flying ear between his thumb and index finger. The small, white wings kept flapping, hoping to get loose. Was it...? No, it couldn't be George's ear. Still Fred thought he recognised a small scar on the back, from one time when they had played with Charlie's cat.

"Oh, is that here again," Fabian said and Fred turned to see his uncle sitting with crossed legs in front of an old-fashioned muggle television. Letting go of the ear Fred walked on his knees over to him and cocked his eyebrow at the picture. It was positively the battle they had watched last night. Or this morning.

"Why are you watching that again?" he asked and scratched his chin.

"All the deaths messed up the reception last night, we got something long after it happened and some things that didn't happen at all, all jumbled up. Alan was waiting for his wife for several hours and it turned out she was alive all the time," Fabian said and changed the channel, showing the same fight from a different perspective. "Beside, we can't be everywhere at once and this is a great way of catching up on what we missed."

"Uh-hum. Do you know where George is now?" Fred suddenly had a need to see how his twin was doing without him.

"Shell Cottage," Gideon answered as he was walking towards them with a cup of coffee. "Shall we head there?" he asked and sat down. Fred nodded and before he knew it the entire cloud was zooming south, arriving in seconds. He leaned over and saw straight through the ceiling of his oldest brother's house. He soon spotted his twin in the bathtub on the first floor, Bill, Fleur and Charlie down in the kitchen.

"Oh, la la," Fabian commented as he too spotted Fleur. Fred didn't care, he only watched George, wishing hard to be down there with him. That wasn't fulfilled, instead he saw the red head gliding below the water and a series of bubbles being released. Maybe it would come true in a way, that they would reunite soon.

"What is he doing? He's not drowning himself?" Gideon said and raised his eyebrows.

"That's exactly what he's doing!" Fred shouted in happiness, he would get his twin back! "No, what now?" he said confused as he saw Bill going up the stairs and into the bathroom. "No!" Fred repeated as his oldest brother yanked the shower curtain away and got George out of the water.

"Idiot," Bill said when he was sure George was alive.

"No, you're the idiot! He was so close, you nitwit-bugger!" Fred shouted, knowing they actually didn't hear him. "So freaking close!" He got up and walked angry away, his vision hazed with millions of angry stars. He didn't see his uncles or that he was walking on thin air as he strode away in anger, wanting to curse and kick anything, mostly his brothers just for being ignorant.

**AN: Loosely lines up with my other story _One_, thus the almost-drowning.**


	2. Rebirth

**AN: Another chapter, another possibility. More spiritual/religious than the first, but again featuring a Prewett.**

Percy, Ron, Harry and Hermione had to leave the body of Fred where it was laying. George had come running by, seeing what had happened and done his best to recover the body from the shambles of the wall, but had been forced to retreat by a flock of Death Eaters.

"I'll come back for you," he had barely had time to whisper before running heals over head.

Now the body laid almost free of rubbles and stones, a ghost of a grin still lingering on the lips, but the eyes were closed and the neck broken.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" Fred said with surprising calm when feeling a presence like himself behind him.

"Yeah, lad, you are," Gideon answered in a sad voice.

"That sucks. Why are you here?" Fred's eyes were still on his body, but he didn't feel any sorrow, he wasn't to live any more and he just accepted it.

"As a guidance," Gideon answered.

"No, I mean, why are _you_ here?"

"In your closest family, I was the last to die," Gideon answered. "A couple of minutes after my brother."

"Okay." Fred sounded tired, but all emotions had drained from him, not even a flicker of anger flamed.

"Listen, you have three options," Gideon said and stepped closer to him.

"Let's hear them."

"You could come with me to the other side."

"Through the bright light?" Fred had noticed his sharp shadow on the floor. "How cliché."

"Yeah, it is," Gideon admitted. "Or you could stay."

"As a ghost?"

"Yes."

"Why would I?"

"Perhaps to take care of George?"

"Not worth it. He'll live for sixty, maybe seventy years more, then choose to 'go on' and I'll be stuck at the castle forever."

"True," Gideon agreed.

"I'm not leaving him, not really," Fred said. "But in the long run it isn't fair to either of us. You mentioned a third alternative."

"Yes," Gideon said and the scene before them dissolved before turning into a dark bedroom, a blond, young woman lying soundly asleep.

"Verity," Fred recognised.

"You've been intimate with her, my sources say," Gideon said slowly.

"Yeah, shagged her a couple of times," Fred said, feeling something resembling his usual grin return.

"Your third option is rebirth," Gideon said. "You will have no recollections of your old life, but your essence - your soul - will be the same."

"So I'll come back as my own son?" Fred inclined his head to one side and looked at the sleeping woman. "I have a feeling that should be disturbing."

"Really?" Gideon said calmly. "If you choose one of the other alternatives she will not give birth, but if you choose this..."

"I've always been a half of a whole," Fred said. "I've always been before the 'and'."

"I see." The scene began turning to smoke.

"No, wait a second!" Fred yelled and their surroundings stabilised. "I'm not sure yet." He continued to look at her and took a step closer. "Why is she sleeping?"

"She doesn't know of the battle. She doesn't know of your death," Gideon said and a weight on his shoulder told Fred his uncle had placed a hand there.

"Makes one among the many," Fred sighed. "Okay, I'll do it. She'll be a good mother."

"You're sure now?"

"It'll be a shock for her, I know that, but she doesn't have much family," Fred said with a burning certainty in his voice. "She deserves someone."

"Everyone does," Gideon said.

"It's not usual to choose this, is it?"

"No. Fabian was offered it, but that would be as his daughter's twin, his mate was already pregnant."

"Did you just say mate? As if they were pandas or something?"

"I did say it, yes," Gideon confirmed.

"So either George or me have been reincarnated before?"

"No," Gideon said. "I'm afraid life, or rather death, is a bit more complicated than that."

"You sound like Dumbledore," Fred muttered.

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as a dead man can be to go back in the form of his son," Fred said and drew a deep breath. "Wait!"

"Why did I have a feeling that would happen?" Gideon said under his breath. "Yes?"

"Can I ask for a kind of favour? I'd like to keep my hair-colour."

"That I think could be fixed. It's your son, after all."

"And the rest of my looks...?"

"Will probably blend with hers," Gideon said.

"Might be just as well, twenty years of all my handsomeness is all this world can take."

"I'm not supposed to say anything, but you're a cocky bastard," Gideon remarked with a chuckle.

"Thanks," Fred said cheerful. "Okay, now I'm absolute ready."

They watch Verity sleep for a couple of seconds more before Gideon said, "so let it be done."

The hand faded from Fred's shoulder as the the room grew brighter, as a gigantic flashlight through a sheet the light glowed from everything. It grew to a scolding white, but it didn't bother Fred, he welcomed it as he was consumed by all the white.

**AN: Opens possibilities, doesn't it? I may have to write something about Verity's life after this if no one else does. Damn, that wasn't my plan.  
And Gideon just seems more right to me as a guide than Fabian, don't ask me why, I'll start rambling.**


	3. Something altogether different

**AN: Personally, this is what I think happened, more or less.**

_Smells like the orchard,_ was Fred's first thought. _Just different._

He kept his eyes closed, letting the rest of his senses decide where he was. He was laying in fairly long grass, a small breeze ruffling at his hair, the sun warming at his face.

_Okay, I'm outside and it's the day._ That didn't make sense, the last her remembered was fighting at Hogwarts and Percy the Prick had finally got his head on straight, and that had been before dawn, as far as he was aware. Then there had been some kind of noise and...

_Fine, I'm having a temporary memory-block and George is probably laying three feet to my left, the battle is over and Moldywart is dead as a fish._ Then why didn't he hear his twin breath or move or anything?

He opened his eyes at last and stared up at the green and white crown of a blossoming cherry tree. As far as he knew he had never seen the large tree before. Looking around himself at the hill he found himself to be alone. Completely alone and panic crept into his chest.

"George?" His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat. "George! Joke's over!" He stood up and took a second glance around. It didn't look like Britain at all, everything was too colourful and warm and peaceful, the air was too fresh and the sky too blue. "Come out, come out, wherever you are or I'll cut off your remaining ear." His tone wasn't half as light as he wished.

_Okay, this is a dream, I'm so exhausted after fighting my mind is messing with me._ He shut his eyes hard, concentrating on waking up in his bed, how the pillow felt under his head and George's occasional snore, how his eyelids felt heavy and the slight air of burned gunpowder the flat had got. _Wake up, wake up, wake up!_

Opening his eyes again he found nothing to be changed, he still stood halfway under the tree. He let his eyes fall shut and desperately tried fishing out different sounds, they may not be at the flat over the shop. Bill's muttering in his sleep, Percy throwing himself around in his bed, Charlie's grunting, steady snores, Ron waking screaming from a nightmare, Ginny sighing, even his mother's heavy breaths would be welcomed!

But nothing came.

Again he opened his eyes with a disappointed groan. Could he be under something alike their Day-Dream Charms, trapped in this unreal world until someone lifted it? If anyone could at all.

Sitting down against the tree-trunk he began wondering how long he had been there and how long it would keep going. Maybe forever. No, George would figure out something, as long as he wasn't trapped in the same fashion. A desperate moan escaped him.

Someone was walking towards him. Someone wearing a long, green skirt and a white shirt, her long, dark blonde hair flying behind her and a basket hanging from one hand. Fred got to his feet and took a couple of steps towards her, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

She had noticed him, how could she not with the flaming red hair? Slowing down before they met, she ran her eyes over his freckled face, muscular frame and ruffled clothes.

"Hi," she said at last.

"Hi," he answered automatically. It was something familiar with her kind face, the round cheeks and pale green eyes. She couldn't be much younger than him, if she wasn't the same age.

"Just arrived?" She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear.

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrows, astonished it actually was someone else here.

"You just got here, I take it?" She smiled timidly at him and he felt his heart race until his mind followed.

"Yeah, just woke up here. Where is 'here'?"

"Cherry Valley, Nangijala," she answered and shifted the empty basket to her other hand.

"Lay off," he said with a shaking laughter. "I wasn't born yesterday!" He had heard the stories in his childhood due to a muggleborn or halfblood baby-sitter, he had never got that straight.

"No, but you died," she said softly and met his eyes. She bit down on her lip, never having seen eyes like that, at first they may pass as blue or green, but on a second look it was impossible not to notice they had specks of brown, too.

"Yeah, right," Fred said and crossed his arms. "Very funny. When this wears off I have to ask George how he's pulled this off."

"George, who is he?" she asked politely.

"My twin," he said and shook his head. "But if we're stuck here for a certain time we just have to make the best of it." His face changed to a suggestive grin.

"What do you take me for?" She brushed past him, stomping away.

"Okay, maybe not," Fred muttered to himself before running after her, grabbing her upper arm and turning her around to see her furious face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." _George, when I get out of here I'm gonna murder you!_

"Then how did you mean it?" Her hands found her hips and he knew that usually mean trouble.

"I mean, this can't be real, so it have to be some kind of dream and I'm sadly a bloke and that's what my world evolves around," he said and sighed. "I'm sorry for coming across as a caveman."

"Well, this is real," she told him and let her hands fall to grab his. "You're dead."

"Fat chance," he replied at once. "Then where's George?"

"Still alive," she said slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he shrieked and yanked his hands free. "We're twins! We do everything together! We can't be parted, really bad things happen when we are! We're the original We, with capital W!" He panted and started walking away only to go back and and pointed his finger in her face, bursting to say something else, but deflated as no words came.

"I'm truly sorry, I know it's not easy," she said and their eyes locked again.

"Oh, I bet you've lost tons of twins," he muttered.

"Okay, I don't know," she admitted. "But I can see this is hard for you. If he really loves you he will come soon."

"Suicide, you mean? Not his style," Fred said and looked down at his feet. "I'm stuck here alone 'til old age gets him." His eyes stung, but he blinked hard to make it stop.

"Would it help if I said time's different here and fifty years for them can be a month here?" She tried catching his eyes again. He settled on looking at her waist, noticing her dress would fit somewhere in the middle ages, or maybe the seventeenth century, clothes had never interested him much.

"A bit," he admitted.

"We never got to introduce ourselves. Amy." She held her hand out to him and and he took it absentminded.

"Fred," he said hoarsely, knowing it wouldn't be followed by 'and George'. "Fred Weasley."

"Weasley? I've heard of you," she said and he looked surprised up at her again. "From my father, Gideon Prewett."

"No way! Then we're kinda cousins," he said, feeling the grin return.

"Not really, I'm adopted," she told him.

"Well, anyway." He shrugged. "I'm dead." A dry laugh escaped him. "I'm _dead!_"

"You'll get used to it."

"I'm dead and... No!" He covered his face with his hands. "Mum's sobbing her eyes out! Merlin, I'm in perfect health, except the dead-part, but I'm alive here."

"Give it some time," Amy advised.

"Yeah, time..." His eyes found the sky. "George, stop those damned tears, it's nothing wrong with me, you moron!" he yelled upwards and shook his fist towards a cloud. "Stop, I tell -" His voice caught in his throat.

"He's not the only one," she said quietly and stroke a finger over Fred's cheek, taking the drops with it. "Come here." She opened her arms and he accepted it, resting his head down on her shoulder.

"It's not fair, is it?" he whispered into her hair and let himself cry. They would meet again, he knew that, but now he was on his own for the first time. She stroke her hand over his back and he let a sob escape him.

"You're not alone," she whispered back. "I'm here in the meantime, poor replacement as it is."

"Yeah," he agreed. No matter how many would be around him, no one could fill the place of George, not even attempt to. The tears eventually stopped, but they stayed in the embrace, he sniffing once in a while. "Thanks." He stood up properly and wrapped his arms over her shoulders, earlier his hands hand barely touched her sides.

"It's the least I could do," she said and rested her forehead to his cheek.

"What were you doing here anyway?" he asked after a minute of just feeling her calming presence.

"Going to pick apples. Want to help me?" She looked up at him and he nodded.

"Not like I have anything better to do," he said and let her go. A big part of him expected to turn and say "or what, George?" but a tiny voice reminded him just in time he couldn't.

"Okay, let's go, then." She turned to her left and he fell into steps beside her, digging his hands down the pockets of his jeans.

"What the hell?" He extracted the right hand again, holding up a wrinkled piece of something cold. "Bloody Merlin!" He dropped it and jumped a step back, looking down at it with surprise and unease.

"Do you usually carry an extra ear around with you?" Amy asked and looked from the _thing_ on the ground to him.

"It's an ear," he concluded, his voice several pitches higher than normal. "It's a fucking ear! It's frickin' Holey Saint George's ear! Bloody hell, I had my brother's ear in my pocket!"

"Do you think he'll miss it?"

"He lost it almost a year ago and now it's here with me!" Fred's eyes were huge when he looked up at Amy. "It's here with me."

"Makes sense," she said and picked the ear up, holding it in her small palm.

"No, it doesn't, nothing does!" He grabbed his own hair and pulled. "I've been Crucioed into insanity." If anything was logical here, it have to be that. With a frustrated scream he bent over his own lap and sunk down in a heap in the grass. If George could be here insanity would just be what they practised every day, but he wasn't, he couldn't be.

"Listen," Amy said and sat down on her knees in front of him. He was so frustrated all that was left to do was sob and she took him into her arms again, letting him muffle his howls in her chest. "It's not easy and it's not fair, but it's real."

"Can't be," he gulped and fisted his hands on her skirt. "Can't!"

"Shh." Slowly she began rocking sideways, soothing him like his uncle had done with her when she was younger. "It is, for now."

"Don't want it to be," he muttered when feeling calmer.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't."

"Okay, I'm not sorry," she said and got him to look up at her.

"Well, that's polite," he said, cracking a small smile.

"You okay now?"

"I'll survive. Not like I'm gonna die twice in one day." He sniffed a last time and got to his feet, she followed him quietly.

"Do you want this, or what?" She held George's ear towards Fred and he touched it with the tip of his finger.

"Can't very well leave it here," he concluded and took the eerie cold flesh in his hand, stuffing it back in his pocket, feeling the small weight against his thigh.

"Do you still want to help me? Or we could go down to the village." She ran her eyes over him, trying to determine what would be best, no matter what his answer was.

"Nah, I'll be okay," he said with a shrug. She shrugged back and they headed for the apple trees.

"Could you tell me a bit more about your family?" she asked as they walked.

"Charlie's the crier," he said as it was the first that sprang to mind. "Works with dragons, but can bawl like a baby."

"Dragons, really?" she said in awe.

"He doesn't get more hurt than he deserves," he said. "Bill's the natural leader and babe-magnet. At least before his face got slashed open last year." She gasped. "He's all right, married and the whole deal. Percy's a class A bigheaded prick and only cares about getting most power the fastest possible. Ron's a real klutz, but brave enough for ten. Ginny, she so badly wants us to see her as something else than our baby sister, going off and snogging half a dozen boys in a fortnight, but she too is brave and smart."

"And George?" Amy asked quietly.

"George... He's the other half of me, the butter to my toast, the hand to my glove, the yin to my yang and all that. We do everything together."

"Everything?" She gave a challenging smile.

"Well, we've grown out of going to the loo together, but other than that, yes," he said. "What we can't share directly we talk about afterwards, so anyone dating one of us would technically be dating both."

"Fred, I think you're coming on to me." She batted her eyelashes.

"What? No, not like that! Or, well, I did tell him when I – just forget I said anything."

"Deal," she said and giggled.

**AN: Lousy ending really, but I don't know how to continue it without going on forever. And The Brothers Lionheart and all attached belongs to Astrid Lindgren, I just borrowed it.**


End file.
